


All That is Grey and Gold

by cerberus_angel



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Death, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-05
Updated: 2013-05-15
Packaged: 2017-12-07 13:22:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 14,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/748971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cerberus_angel/pseuds/cerberus_angel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nothing will stop Robb Stark from getting his Queen back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. King in the North

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing for anything pertaining to GoT and ASoIaF. After reading many fanfics of this couple I can't help shipping them and so I have been inspired to write for them. I apologize before hand if this is no good, but I'm really hoping that you like it even just a little. (^_^)

 

“This isn’t like you.”

Robb could still feel the blood on his hands.

“Do you think she will be able to look at you the same way?”

_I don’t know_ “It doesn’t matter.” **_Her fingertips brushed against his as she grabbed the winter rose he offered. The smile that curved on her lips had his chest tightening._** If he closed his eyes he swore he could still feel the heat of her touch. “This won’t end until I get her, Sansa, Arya, and Jon out of there.”

“For all we know they could be dead.” Theon instantly regretted the words when the King in the North glared at him. It was moments like these that he could no longer see his close friend. He no longer knew who the young man standing in front of him was. He had so many names and Theon wondered if somewhere along the way he lost who he was.

Sensing Robb’s anger Grey Wind came to stand beside him as if ready to tear into whatever was causing his temper to rise. “You don’t know that.” Robb’s hand curled on the dire wolf’s fur, his voice was as cold the winter the North would warn about.

“There’s been talk about you needing to take a Queen.”

“I already have a Queen!” He snapped. **_In the godswood, he fastened the Stark cloak around her shoulders claiming her as his. Her lips were warm and soft against his. She tasted of what he believed summer to be._** Grey Wind growled. “I aim to get her back.” Robb stood from his seat and began walking away with Grey Wind beside him.  

“Where are you going?” Theon called to him.

“To speak with the Kingslayer.”

“What will you have us do with the Frey?”

“Leave their corpses to rot.”

 


	2. Kingslayer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The King in the North and the Kingslayer meet again.

“King in the North.” This time Jaime Lannister knew not to underestimate him since their first and last meeting. He may have appeared a boy, but he was anything but that. Now standing in front of him Robb Stark looked nothing remotely resembling a boy. Dried blood coated his face, clothes, and hands. His eyes were cold with hatred and anger and yet outwardly he showed none of the chaotic emotions that raged within him. He stood calm and confident with Grey Wind by his side. Glancing between the two, the Kingslayer did not know who to be wearier of, the King that may snap at any moment or the dire wolf that would follow his command without hesitation. “I wish to give you my condolences for what happened with Lady Catelyn. I can only hope you paid the Frey back in kind.”

“It seems that word travels even down here.”

“Your bannermen enjoy speaking of your conquests.”

“Then let me be the first that you hear from,” Robb closed the distance between them in two strides, “there will be no heir to the House of Frey.”

Jaime remained silent not knowing what to make of those words. _Did he kill the entire House of Frey?_ A chill went down his spine as Robb continued to look down at him. He hadn’t noticed Grey Wind approach until his breath hit his neck. He glanced at dire wolf, but the fear he had once felt for it paled in comparison to what was starting to form for its owner. “I know you did not come here to simply share the good news. What is it that you want?”

“Will he kill her?”

He sat up straighter. “Which one are you referring to?”

 _Myrcella._ “Both.”

“That is a hard call to make. It depends on who is in King’s Landing watching over Joffrey.” Jaime cleared his throat. “Since my father is fighting against your men that leaves only Tyrion and Cersei.”

“Hers will be the second head that will roll after your bastard son’s.”

Jaime bit back a smile. The only one the King in the North ever referred as the bastard was Joffrey. He would exclude Myrcella and Tommen. “They will remain alive so long as Tyrion is there and if Cersei has not lost her mind in trying to please Joffrey.” He met Robb’s gaze with a grim expression. “I can’t say the same about the bastard you sent as a guard for your wife.”

Robb’s hands curled into firsts. Grey Wind growled at Jaime’s ear.

“More than likely all the men you sent with her are as good as dead and if he has somehow survived then the Old Gods and New are looking after him.”

Without another word Robb turned on his heel and walked out. Jaime glanced at Grey Wind waiting for it to growl and threaten to bite him like the last time. Instead the dire wolf turned away from him and followed his King.

“What number will I be?” Jaime called out to him.

He stopped in his tracks. “You will be last.”  Robb looked over his shoulder. “I want to give Myrcella the chance to meet with you once more. She only ever held love for you and I refuse to hurt her anymore than your family has.”

The Kingslayer remained silent as he watched the King in the North walk away. His eyes closed when he was alone again. A girl with blonde curls for hair, alabaster skin, and a smile that could light up any room she waltzed in appeared in his mind. Her beauty so similar to her mother, but unique in its own way. Her love, kindness, and protectiveness knew no bounds. **_“Uncle Jaime! Uncle Jaime!” she called out as she ran to him. Her hands reaching for him as he swept her into his arms. Her arms wrapped around his neck as if never wanting to let go and Jaime felt like he belonged. He may love Cersei, but he knew no matter how much he tried to think otherwise she did not love him as much as he loved her. She never made him feel like he belonged. Myrcella never judged and only loved him. He kissed her cheek basking in the sound her laughter. “You must see Tommen’s new cat.” Tommen, who was too soft and kind to ever truly be a lion._**

His eyes opened chasing away the memory. The only good thing Robert ever did was betrothed her to Robb Stark. She was supposed to be safe in the North. His hands curled into fists at the thought of what Myrcella could be going through in King’s Landing under Joffrey’s control. If he kills her, Jaime will not hesitate to take his head. King in the North, Cersei, and consequences be damned. Another King will fall under his sword.        


	3. Queen in the North and Her Sworn Shield

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon couldn't help but feel guilty as he watched Mrycella lay in bed. He was supposed to protect her and he failed. He sat by her bedside with his head down. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." He whispered over and over again.

“I’m sorry.”

Mrycella struggled to open her eyes.

“I’m so sorry.”

She hissed as half her face stung. She couldn’t recall why she was in so much pain.

“Mrycella…”

She heard someone moving beside her, but she couldn’t see for something covered her eye. A moment later Jon’s face appeared above her, bruises marred his face. It was then the images came: Joffrey yelling at Sansa and calling for one of his Kingsguard to smack her, and Jon stepping in to defend her only for Joffrey to subject him to a beating far harsher than was ever given to Sansa or her. **_“I want to see him bleed.”_** The moment she had seen Joffrey unsheathe a sword she jumped in. Myrcella had barely made it in time to save Jon by throwing herself over him and her momentum caused them to hit the floor, but in the end she wasn’t fast enough. The blade cut her. She remembered tasting the blood in her mouth, the horror and disbelief in Jon’s eyes as her blood dripped onto his face before everything went black.

“How bad is it?”

“Myrcella I don—”

“Tell me.” She cut him off trying to remain calm when all she wanted to do was cry out from the pain. “I need to know why it hurts so much.”

“He cut your cheek and half your ear off.” Jon cleared his throat before lowering his voice as he heard Tommen and Arya conversing with Rickard on the other side of the room. He didn’t want the little ones to know she was awake until she was ready. “The wound on your ear became infected…”

Myrcella did not need him to finish as tears blurred her vision. She understood what he meant.

“I’m so sorry.” He whispered again. That sword was coming for him, the cut should have been his, and he should have been the one suffering from the pain not her. He should have been able to protect her.

“Why do you apologize?” She asked as a tear slid down her face. “Were you the one who wielded the sword that cut me?”

“No.”

“Then don’t apologize.”

“I’m supposed to protect you.”

“You are…” Her hand grabbed his because she needed to reassure him. “I was the one that put myself at risk. I couldn’t lose you.”

“You shouldn’t have… I’m just a bastard.”

“You became my half brother the moment I wedded Robb. So did Sansa, Arya and Bran and Rickon. All of you are my family and I refuse to lose any of you to Joffrey.” She had lost one to him and will not lose another. More tears slid down her face, her body shook slightly. “Where’s Rickard?” Her voice wavered.

“He’s with Arya and Tommen on the other side of the room. Ghost is watching after them.”

She took a deep breath trying not to break down under the pain. Myrcella would never wish this kind of pain on any of her enemies, but now more than ever she wished Joffrey would suffer this pain. _I want him to bleed._ She felt a cloth brush gently across her cheek and looked up to see Sansa.

“I thought we were going to lose you.” She admitted and had to blink back tears. Seeing Myrcella cry for the first time since Rickard's birth made something in her wilt away. Sansa wanted nothing more than to stab Joffrey in the heart. “I would have killed him or died trying if he took you from us.” After what he did to her father, everything he had put her through along with Jon and cutting Myrcella, she wanted him dead more than ever. The need to plunge a dagger into his chest was suffocating her.

“You must promise that you will leave Joffrey to me.” Myrcella grabbed her hand gently.

“Fine, but if your first strike does not kill him then I will stab him through the heart.”

It hurt to smile, but smile she did.

“But first you must allow me to repay him in kind for these bruises.”

“Only if you can stop me first.”

Jon and Sansa chuckled at Myrcella’s words. The tension was gone and they could breathe again… or at least until Joffrey summoned them again to entertain him.

“Do you think Rickard will recognize me? Will he be scared of me?”

“That child loves you too much to ever be scared of you.” Jon looked over his shoulder to see his nephew smiling at something his uncle Tommen and aunt Arya were showing him. Ghost lay behind the one-year-old and let himself be used as a cushion. Rickard turned to Ghost fisted his fur and kiss him on the head. He remembered the first few times when Ghost would recoil and look at the child confused. After almost a year Ghost had grown used his kisses and hugs and would even let Rickard ride on his back.

“Jon is right.” Sansa smiled at her gently. “Rickard will always recognize you. You’re his mother. ”      

Mrycella could only hope they were right. If Rickard couldn’t stand the sight of her, she feared it would shatter her.     


	4. Winterfell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bran and Rickon wait in Winterfell for their older siblings to return home safely.

“When do you think Robb will be coming back?”

Bran looked away, from Shaggydog trying to grab Summer’s attention by head butting him, and glanced at his younger brother. “After he takes King’s Landing.”

 Summer refused to pay any attention to his brother and instead he remained sitting on his spot.

“He will bring Sansa, Arya, Jon and Myrcella back, right?”

“Of course he will.”

“Mother too…” Rickon’s hands curled into fists over his knees.

Bran took notice of his knuckles turning white and quickly placed his hand over them. He didn’t say anything… he couldn’t not when he had the same dream before he found out of his father’s death. He knew that Rickon more than likely had dreamt the same thing if the way his hands shook and his eyes became watery were anything to go by.

“I miss them.” He whispered blinking back tears.

“I do too.”

Summer’s and Shaggydog’s head snapped up to look behind Bran and Rickon. Both boys held their breath waiting to hear to the growl that warned them if whatever the direwolves heard was a danger. No growl came and both Bran and Rickon sighed in relief. A few moments later the sounds of snow crunching under footsteps reached their ears. Bran glanced over his shoulder, a small smile formed on his lips when he saw it was Osha approaching them.

“What are you two young lords doing out here by yourselves?”

“We are not by ourselves.” Rickon rubbed his eyes quickly. “Shaggydog and Summer are with us.”

“Of course.” She took a seat beside Bran. “How could I ever forget about the wolves?” Osha noticed the slightly redden eyes of Rickon it looked as if the boy had been about to cry. “What have you two been up to?”

Bran shared a look with Rickon before he answered. “We were talking about Robb.”

“King Robb.” Osha looked between both boys. “What about him?”

This time it was Rickon who responded. “We were wondering about when he was coming back home.”

She knew they were hiding something, but also knew that they would tell her when they were ready. “Has there been any new dreams?”

“I had one last night…” Bran began trying to remember exactly what he saw. “There was a room that had a lioness standing between a white bleeding direwolf and another lion. A gray direwolf pup sat between the lioness’ front legs. Behind them were another grey direwolf, a grey and white direwolf and a lion cub stood between them. The door bad been broke and water slipped through flooding the floor. On top of the broken down door stood a gray direwolf that was bruised, battered, and bathed in blood.”

Rickon glared at him. “You didn’t tell me you had another dream.”

“I would have told you but it had slipped my mind.”

Osha frowned as she thought over Bran’s dream. _Could he have been dreaming of his family again?_

“Lord Bran! Lord Rickon!”

Osha looked over her shoulder to see Maester Luwin walking toward them at an alarming speed for someone his age.

The expression on his face had Bran’s stomach filling with dread. Summer feeling his discomfort went to him. _May the old gods and new give us strength._ His hand grasped Summer’s fur desperately.

“I have received news about your mother—”

Rickon did not have to hear the rest. Shaggydog covered the distance between them and looked into his eyes. Silent tears streamed down Rickon’s face. He pressed his forehead against Shaggydog’s. The direwolf did not pull away not even when Rickon’s tears soaked his fur. Anguish hung heavy in both their hearts.   


	5. A Scarred Queen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The time has come for Myrcella to show her injuries.

_Is that really me?_ Myrcella placed the mirror Jon had handed her moments ago on the bed after she taking a look at her reflection. She knew she wouldn’t look the same, but not being able to recognize herself at first glance hurt more than words could describe. It seemed like a stranger had been looking back at her. Myrcella could have fooled herself if it wasn’t for the sun kissed hair and green eyes that reminded her so much of her beloved uncle Jaime, so much of her mother… so much of Joffrey. Her hands clenched into fists.

“Myrcella.”

The breath rushed out of her lungs when she heard Tommen call out to her. She had been avoiding him and Rickard for the past two days. Arya and Jon had been very helpful in keeping the boys entertained while Sansa tended to her wound. _It can’t be helped._ She took a deep breath and turned to look at her younger brother, her gaze meeting his green eyes. How could she forget that he shared those same eyes? Her sweet little Tommen. She saw the way his eyes widened in shock before they echoed with horror. Tears gathered in his eyes and tugged painfully at her heart. She had steeled herself against him retreating and running from her, but not against his tears.

Tommen ran to her and threw his arms around her burying his face on her stomach.

Myrcella could feel his tears soaking through her gown. She wrapped her arms around him and held him close. _I will not cry. I am done crying._

He lifted his head and asked. “Who did this to you?”  

She remained silent and graced him with a smile as she wiped his tears away.

“Was it Joffrey?”

“It does not matter.”

“I will hurt him!”

“No you will not.” Myrcella cupped his face gently in her hands. “It wasn’t me he was trying to cut. He was trying to hurt Jon.”

“Jon.” He looked up at her confused. “Why Jon?”

“It’s complicated Tommen. You must promise me that you will not do anything to make Joffrey angry at you.”

“Myr—”

“Promise me.”

His hands fisted her gown knowing that he didn’t have a choice in the matter. “I promise.” Tommen loved to make and receive promises, but this was the first time he disliked them greatly. _A promise must never be broken._ Now Joffrey was out of his reach.

“I don’t want him to have reason to hurt you.” She pressed her lips against his temple as she ran her hand through his blond hair. A habit she formed with him at a young age. It soothed him as much as it did her.

“I don’t want you hurting anymore.” Tommen whispered.

Her only response was holding him tighter.

“Is it time to see the scar?”

The sound of Arya’s voice had a small smile curve on Myrcella’s lips. “I was wondering when you were going to arrive. I need your thoughts on my new look.”

“Hmmm…” Arya stepped closer her eyes narrowing on Myrcella’s face. “I think it suits you. It gives you more character.” She tilted her head to the side. “Now you look like a Queen of war that would do anything to protect her family.”

Myrcella gasped and feigned hurt as she placed a hand over her heart. “Did I not look the part before?”

“No, but now you do.” She winked.

Tommen pulled away from Myrcella and wiped his remaining tears away as he chuckled at their banter. 

“I can only hope that Robb will like it.”

“He will love it.” The humor was gone from Arya as she held Myrcella’s gaze.   

The conviction in Arya’s voice had Myrcella almost believing her words.

“I apologize for arriving late.” Jon said as he walked into the room with his nephew in his arms struggling to climb over his shoulder. Rickard was trying to reach for Ghost who trailed behind Jon but walked beside Sansa.

“Rickard.”

At the sound of Arya’s voice Rickard stilled in Jon’s arms. His small arms wrapped around his uncle’s neck and he pressed his cheek against Jon’s as he looked at Arya with wide eyes.

Arya placed her hands on her hips and raised an eyebrow at her nephew. “Were you being a handful to your uncle Jon?”

Rickard nodded his head. Arya bit back a smile knowing that he couldn’t lie even to save his own life. He had a heart of gold just like his uncle Tommen, both sweet to the very core.

“What do you say?”

The little one pouted as he looked at Jon “Sorry.” He said and kissed him on the cheek.

“Don’t worry about it.” Jon whispered as he lightly pressed his forehead against the side of Rickard’s head. His breath fanned the little one’s curls and caused him to chuckle.

Myrcella smiled at the scene. Seeing Jon so close with Rickard made her happy, but at the same time sad because her son had yet to meet his father. Even though they told him stories of Robb it didn’t change the fact that Rickard has never seen him. She could only pray that one day he will, that one day all of them will be reunited again. “Rickard.”

Rickard’s head snapped to the direction he heard his mother’s voice. “Mama!” He wiggled in Jon’s arms wanting to get down.

Jon chuckled as he set Rickard on his feet and watched the one-year-old take hurried steps toward Myrcella.

“Mama!” His hands were outstretched as his mother kneeled on the floor to be eye level with him.

Myrcella blinked back tears as her son reached for her without hesitation. _How could I have ever doubted him?_ It was as if the wound was never there. She reached for him and cradled him in her arms. “My little wolf.”

Rickard laughed as his mother rained kisses all over his face. His small hand came to rest on the cut that marred her cheek. He felt more than saw his mother go still. Everyone in the room had gone silent. “Hurt?”

“Not that much anymore.”

A frown formed on his lips. “Bad men?”

It saddened her to know that no matter how much she tried to protect him it was almost futile. They had to warn him once he began to walk and get more curious. He liked to explore and so they had to make sure he will not go with anyone that came in the room. The exceptions being his aunts, his uncles and his great uncle Tyrion. “I won’t let them hurt you.”

“Mama I…” Rickard could not say the words he wanted, he didn’t know how so he simply wrapped his small arms around his mother’s neck and squeezed tightly. His small body trembled with the effort.

Myrcella rubbed circles on his back. “I love you too.” 


	6. Harrenhal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robb arrives at Harrenhal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was having slight difficulty figuring out how to go about this. I have two of the future chapters written already, but I didn't know how to make the chapters connect to them. There's also the issue that I forgot about Stannis attacking King's Landing, so now I have to fit that in as well. But I think it's for the better because it I'm going to explore a few other scenarios that I have been running circles in my mind. With that said I want to give a huge thank you to everyone who commented or left a kudos. You guys are awesome! =D

Robb entered the ruins of Harrenhal. He had seen death hovering over it when he caught sight of the bodies hanging, but the carnage that awaited them still caught him off guard. He has seen death and has dealt it to others but it is different when it’s in battle. The dirt was wet with blood. The entire courtyard was decorated with corpses. This was no battle, it was a massacre.   

“Two hundred north men slaughtered.”

He turned in the slow circle needing to see this to have it engraved in his mind. These people who had been slaughtered like sheep were his to protect. _I failed them._ If he hadn’t gone back to seek vengeance against the Frey… _Is this the price to pay for avenging my mother?_

"This isn’t your fault.” Theon came to stand beside him.

“These are my people. I was supposed to protect them.” Grey Wind feeling his master’s chaotic emotion came to stand beside him ready to do whatever was necessary to calm him.

“This is war Robb. The only thing guaranteed is death and we both know just how true that is.” Theon glanced at the bannermen. “They are waiting for orders.”

Robb looked away from the fallen to address his men. “Form a group to go to the cells and check if there are any prisoners still alive.” He met Rickard Karstark’s gaze. “You will lead them. There’s still a chance that Harrion was imprisoned here and is still alive.”

“Your Grace.” Rickard bowed his head before motioning for his bannermen to step forward.

“Theon, I want you to form another group and search the ruins. I don’t want to risk an ambush of any sort.” Robb turned to look at Roose Bolton. “Gather a few men to help you put our prisoners in the vacant cells.” His gaze fell on the dead again. “I want ten men posted on the gates standing guard. Greatjon, you along with the rest of the men will help me look for any survivors and bury the dead.”

 Robb thought he heard a weak cough as his bannermen dispersed to carry out his orders. Grey Wind heard had it, his head snapped up and looked to the right. Robb followed the direwolf’s gaze waiting to hear the samesound again or slight movement because he could not see which body it could have belonged to. Grey Wind took off running, it was then Robb saw movement on a wagon filled with dead bodies. Another cough ripped from the young man’s lungs. He ran to it and climbed on it mindful of the dead bodies. Grey Wind whined as he stayed on the floor.

The first thing he noticed was the black-coal hair matted with sweat, dirt, and blood and the vivid blue eyes that refused to become dull. He was fighting for his life refusing to die. Robb respected his will to live and would do whatever was necessary to help him survive. “What’s your name friend?” He asked as he used a dagger to cut off a piece of the cloth protruding from under his armor.

“…Gendry.” The young man uttered weakly.

“Well Gendry, you’re lucky to be alive.” He pressed the cloth against the open wound on his neck.  


	7. Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lately Arya has trouble sleeping. Some nights her dreams are not her own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arya was practically demanding for a chapter of her own. I hope you enjoy even if it is small.

Lately Arya has trouble sleeping. Some nights her dreams are not her own. The last one had left her shaken with pain and disbelief that had haunted long after she had woken up. Not even Jon could comfort her. The image of Robb’s dull dead like eyes staring at their mother as he held her in his arms was seared into her mind.

 **_She couldn’t move as she hid in the trees. Arya wanted to run to him, to comfort, to yell or to ask questions. Dirt and blood marred his face and clothes, he looked like an empty shell with death hanging over him as The Twins burned behind him. It was then she noticed water dripping from her mother’s clothes and the unusual paleness of her skin._ ** _No! **The stillness in her mother’s form had disbelief gripping her. She refused to believe that her mother was dead, but the fact that her chest was not moving to indicate she was breathing had Arya facing the truth.**_

**_Robb kneeled on the floor and held her closer as if he could still protect her. His body curled around hers as if never wanting to let go. He buried his face into the crook of her neck._ **

**_His muffled yell had tears burning Arya’s eyes. She watched as Robb’s body trembled for a moment before he looked up again his gaze as cold as winter. At that moment Arya couldn’t tell what hurt more, her mother’s death or the fact that Robb could not cry._ ** _I have to help him. **She stepped forward a branch snapped under her paw. Robb’s gaze swung to her direction and met her gaze.** Robb. **She wanted nothing more than to run to him, but before she could act the sound of footsteps over grass broke their moment.**_

**_Robb looked away and Arya watched as Theon approached him. She saw the way Theon’s hand curled into fists when his gaze landed on her mother. The anger in his gaze fueled hers. “It’s done. They are all burning.”_ **

**_“It’s still not enough.” Robb glanced down at their mother’s corpse. “It will never be enough.”_ **

**_“What will you have us do?”_ **

**_“Bolton mentioned once that we are overflowing with prisoners.”_ **

**_“We still are.”_ **

**_“Kill half of them.”_ **

**_“Robb—”_ **

**_“They are Lannister’s men.”_ **

**_“I thought you didn’t want to give them a reason to hurt the girls and Jon.”_ **

**_“I don’t, but I’m done doing things the honorable way. It has only gotten my family killed.” He stood once more cradling his mother’s body in his arms. “I refuse to let another Stark die. It’s about time they learn to fear our strength and not just admire it.”_ **

**_“What about the Frey that escaped the fire?”_ **

**_“Hunt them down and drag them back kicking and screaming if you must.” He said turning on his heel and walking away._ **

**_“Do you want me to help?” Theon asked Robb’s retreating back._ **

**_“This is something I have to do alone.” Robb said not breaking stride._ **

**_Arya began to retreat for Theon was the only one that remained in the clearing. As if hearing her movement he turned to look at her direction with narrowed eyes. A heartbeat later she broke into a run through the trees. The wind dried the tears that she refused to spill. She didn’t stop when her lungs burned or when her paws ached._ ** _Robb! I have to help him somehow!_

Arya had not been able to tell Jon, Myrcella or Sansa about what she had seen. A part of her hoped it was just a dream and nothing more yet the dread that formed in the pit of her stomach would not leave her. It would only grow stronger when she thought about the way her mother looked in Robb’s arms unmoving and how Robb was dying inside out because of this war. She feared when all this came to an end Robb would never be the same.

She kicked the covers away and got off the bed. Arya had always been light on her feet and tonight she was no different. Only her tiptoes touched the ground as she walked to the door. _Swift as a deer._ She opened it and just as silently closed it. _Quiet as a shadow._ The shadows of the hallway welcomed her. 


	8. A Warning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tyrion warns Myrcella, Jon, and the Stark sisters.

Jon noticed the door opening and motioned for Tyrion to become silent. Myrcella followed his gaze and reached under the skirt of her gown to grab the dagger she had strapped to her thigh. Sansa quickly made her way to the sleeping forms of Tommen and Rickard as if to protect them. Jon glanced at Ghost waiting for the direwolf to bare his teeth that would warn them if it was an enemy. Instead Ghost silently made his way to the door and nudged it open some more to allow Arya to enter.

“Aren’t you supposed to be sleeping?” Jon asked amused as Arya stumbled into the room her hair in disarray and dressed in her night gown.

“So is Sansa.”

“I told you I would be coming in late.”

“And I told you I don’t like being alone for too long in any room.” Arya had learned that as long as she is in King’s Landing she can never be safe.

Jon stood up from his seat and wrapped an arm around her shoulders pulling her close while using his other hand to close the door. “Would you like to sleep here tonight?”

“I’m not a child.”

“I know you aren’t, but we are family. You don’t have to hide your fear from us.”

She fisted his shirt. “I don’t want to be a bother.”

“You won’t be.” Jon ruffled her hair. “I promise.”

“It would be better if Sansa and her stay with you from now on.”

Arya stepped out of Jon’s embrace and walked around him to look at Tyrion. “Why?”

Tyrion glanced at Jon who nodded. “Stannis Baratheon is sailing with his army of thousands to King’s Landing as we speak.”

The dread that had made itself home inside of her flared to life. “How long until he arrives?”

“A day if the winds are in his favor.”

Arya hands clenched into fists, she hated feeling so powerless. _I won’t die on my knees!_ Jon’s hand on her shoulder broke through her dark musings.

“No matter what happens we will stay together.” Myrcella met Arya’s gaze trying to reassure her.

Sansa left the sleeping boys and came to stand beside Arya. “We haven’t been torn apart yet nor will we be.” She grabbed her younger sister’s hand and held it securely in her own.

Instead of tugging it back like she usually would, Arya let her hand remain in her sister’s grasp.

“Uncle, do you have any news on Robb?” Myrcella asked it has been a while since she heard news of him from Joffrey. She was afraid something might have happened to him since her older brother had yet to summon them for a beating. Most of the time when he did it was because Robb was winning battles and gaining more land and allies. He was coming closer in to King’s Landing. _He will be here soon._  

“Last I heard he decimated the House Frey.”

Jon looked at him surprised. “I thought the House Frey swore fealty to House Tully.”

“They did.”

“They must have betrayed Robb in the most heinous of ways.” Myrcella’s eyes narrowed into slits. The anger that burned in them had Tyrion glad that he had his niece as an ally.

“Your grandfather didn’t mention all the details when he wrote to Joffrey and Cersei or at least that I am aware of.” Tyrion took a seat beside her. “My guess is that he will be heading to Harrenhal.”

“Won’t grandfather be there?”

“Oh no, he left that place when he knew Robb was closing in on him. If it wasn’t for the Frey’s betrayal Robb may have met him in battle.”

“He must be planning something.” Myrcella frowned. _Grandfather always thinks two steps ahead. Why abandon Harrenhal? Is it because Stannis is closing in on King’s Landing?_ Something didn’t feel right. If her grandfather decided to battle against Stannis that left Robb with an opening to march into King’s Landing. _King’s Landing will be attacked from two sides making it nearly impossible to protect._

“We both know he is. The problem is trying to figure out what.” He patted her hand. “I’ll leave that up to you to figure out. I still need to come up with a battle plan that can keep Stannis and his men from breaching the walls.”

“I will pray to the Old Gods and New that you come up with something spectacular.” She pressed a kiss against his temple.

“I can only hope they will listen to you.” Tyrion raised a hand touched her scars gently. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to stop him.”

“He wasn’t aiming at me.”

“It doesn’t matter. He shouldn’t have been trying to kill any one of you. He’s a vicious-idiot King and that’s what makes him dangerous.” Tyrion looked away from Myrcella to look at the Starks. “Be careful.”

“We always are.”

“More so now than ever. When a King’s home is being attacked they lash out even more.” Tyrion stood from his seat. “When Stannis comes you must hide somewhere that Joffrey won’t be able to get men to drag any of you out.” He met Myrcella’s gaze once more and grabbed her hand. “One princess and her children have been murdered in these halls. I don’t want history repeating itself.”

“I’m no longer a princess Uncle Tyrion. I stopped being one when I married Robb.”

“That may be the case, but you are so much more now. You became Queen in the North the moment Robb’s bannermen declared him King in the North. In your mother’s eyes you are now her enemy. She will not help you against Joffrey.”

It went without saying that Arya and Sansa were considered princesses. Jon may be a bastard, but the King in the North acknowledges him as a brother. He is worth more alive than dead. Then there was Rickard, who is Robb’s heir. The entire royal family of the North is captured in King’s Landing excluding Bran and Rickon, who remained in Winterfell. Tyrion smiled knowing that this entire time Joffrey had the power to bring Robb Stark to kneel if he used his prisoners’ correctly, but his nephew was an idiot. The boy’s mother was no different. They could have gotten Jaime back in exchange for the sisters and Jon, but Tyrion knew the Young Wolf would not agree unless Myrcella was also part of the exchange. Myrcella could be included, but Rickard would not be. The King in the North more than likely has no idea that he has a son or the fact the Myrcella had been pregnant since she spent her entire pregnancy in King’s Landing. If Robb had known that she was pregnant Tyrion didn’t doubt that the Young Wolf would have kept his wife at his side instead of letting her travel.

It was a good thing that neither Cersei nor Joffrey had come up with this sort of plan. Tyrion could only hope that his father wouldn’t either. He wanted his niece and nephew that held nothing but love for him to escape. He wanted his great nephew, who walked to him with hurried clumsily steps, kissed his cheek and gave him a smile just like his mother’s as a greeting, to get out of this unscathed. He wanted him to be able to live a happy life with his parents and family in the North. It was all he could ever hope to give the boy.        

“I know that.” Myrcella held Tyrion’s hand tightly. _I had always known but I finally came to terms with it when she did not visit me after Joffrey cut my face._

“If I should fail to protect you—”

“I will not.”

Tyrion looked over his shoulder and smirked at Jon. “I was going to say keep your wits about you, but the bastard is right.” He met his niece’s emerald gaze.  “He has done a good job at keeping everyone together and safe. Jon might be your trump card. Keep him close for in the game of thrones—”

“You win or die.” Myrcella finished for him. “Be careful Uncle.”

“I will.” He pressed his lips against her hand before letting go and turning to face Jon. “Keep them safe.”

“With my life.”

After Tyrion had left it wasn’t long before they all settled for bed. Arya turned on her side wrapping her arm around Rickard and pulling his small body close. Myrcella had given up her spot on the bed and slept on the rug beside Sansa. Jon slept on the chair a few feet from the bed. The sword Tyrion had given him in secret, close to his hand ready to be grabbed and used at any moment. Ghost lay on the foot of the bed, his body warming Arya’s feet. As her eyes closed her last thought was of Nymeria before drifting off to sleep.

 **_She sniffed the ground trying to catch his scent again._ ** _Which way? **She continued walking her nose trailing over the ground until the familiar scent hit her.** There! **Her head snapped up, her nose to the air and caught the scent again. This time it was much stronger. A howl ripped from her lungs and echoed into the night sky.**_

 **_Arya’s heart pounded rapidly, adrenaline coursed through her veins when she heard multiple howls answer hers. She looked behind to see the entire clearing filled with what could only be hundreds of wolves. The search had begun. They were coming. She took off into a run. Arya didn’t have to look in order to know the wolves were following her. She could feel it under her paws as the ground shook. All of Westeros will feel their arrival; will hear their howls and the one sitting on the iron throne will quake in his boots. Everyone aiding him will fall under their sharp teeth. But before that can happen she has to reunite with her brother and aid him._ ** _Robb! Wait for me! **Another howl echoed into the night.**_


	9. Choices and Decisions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robb finds out about Stannis sailing to King's Landing and makes a decision. Bran has another dream.

“You have just informed me that Stannis Baratheon is a day away from sailing into King’s Landing,” Robb’s voice echoed through the room, “and you expect me not to gather my bannermen and march there this instant?” His gaze narrowed on Roose Bolton.

“You must think logically, Your Grace—”

“I am thinking logically. That man will not spare my family if he sacks King’s Landing.”

“You do not—”

“He killed his own brother.” A growl echoed from under the table. Grey Wind had been lying on the floor by Robb’s feet, but now he sat on his haunches. His head rose high above the table and a little below Robb’s shoulders. His smokey grey fur gleamed in the candlelight and his yellow eyes became slits as he looked upon Roose Bolton. “Do not say anything to try and convince me otherwise. At dawn we ride to King’s Landing with or without your bannerman Lord Bolton. The choice is yours but know this, that after I raid King’s Landing and take back what is mine, I will come for you.”

Greatjon bit back a smile remembering a similar threat that had been made to him for what seemed like almost a lifetime ago. What was left of his pinky and ring finger on his left hand twitched in remembrance. This time when Grey Wind jumps on the table it won’t be for him, but for the Lord sitting beside him.

“I did not mean to offend.” Roose looked between Grey Wind and Robb.

Robb looked away from him, his gaze roamed the around the table landing on each man present in the meeting. “Is there anything else we need to discuss?”

“Wolves.” Rickard Karstark spoke up for the first time since the meeting had begun, but it was of no surprise since Robb and Roose had been the only two to dominate the conversation. Not even Theon or Greatjon had dared to interrupt. Robb met his gaze but remained silent wordlessly telling him to continue. “I have received word that there have been sightings of a great pack of hundreds of wolves led by what could only be a direwolf.”

 _A pack of wolves that big… How? Why?_ Robb frowned. _A direwolf leading them…_ He knew of only five direwolves that could be a possible candidate. He had one of the five with him, another two were in Winterfell and the last two were supposed to be in King’s Landing. “Where?”

“They were spotted running through the Riverlands at night. They were heading south to the Trident.”

“Wolves don’t travel this far south.” Theon stated from his seat on Robb’s right. “They can either be running from or to something.”

“Perhaps this is a blessing in disguise from the Old Gods.” Harrion, who had just been reunited with his father Rickard a few hours ago, spoke. “Your sigil is a grey direwolf.”

“He may have a point, Your Grace,” Theon grinned when Robb glared at him. He knew just how much the Young Wolf hated formalities between them, but it had to be done in front of others. It was good to know some things don’t change, one being, that he could still annoy the younger man.

“Like you have said before,” Greatjon spoke grabbing everyone’s attention, “Winter is coming.”

 

* * *

 

In Winterfell Bran gasped waking from his dream. Sweat matted his hair and dripped down his face. “Leeches and fire.” He uttered breathlessly.

Osha who had been watching over him placed her hand over his shoulder. “What’s wrong little Lord?” The fear she saw in his gaze worried her. “Did you have another dream?”

Bran nodded. “Leeches were everything. They were sucking the life out of the walls, the snow, the people…” He shuddered as the images of bodies falling to the floor as they cried out in pain filled his mind again. Leeches covered their bodies and they were slowly dying. If the leeches did not kill them then the fire did. “Fire… there was fire.”

“Bran—”

“Leeches came to Winterfell and fire made its home here.” 


	10. And So It Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robb bonds with another bastard. Harrenhal is not all it seems for something lurks in the shadows disturbing Theon.

Robb knocked on the door in front of him.

“Come in.”

He opened the door to see Gendry sitting up in bed leaning against his pillows. “It’s good to see that they cleaned you up.” Blood and dirt no longer stained his person. Bandages of white cloth covered his neck and most his chest. Bruises marred visible skin. Robb pulled out the stopper from the wineskin he held, tilted his head, and squeezed a long stream into his mouth. The wine was both cool and hot as it went down his throat. His belly burned with a familiar ache. He held out the skin to Gendry. “Would you like some?”

"Thank you.” Gendry grabbed the skin and took a gulp.

Robb chuckled when he saw his right eye twitch. “You get used to it once you drink more.”

“Do you drink a lot?”

“Sometimes.” He grabbed the skin when Gendry handed it back. “I shouldn’t be tonight since I will ride to King’s Landing in the morning, but I can’t sleep.”

“Does it help you sleep?”

“Most times, but tonight it’s not working.”

“Perhaps it’s a sign from the Old Gods and the New.”

“If you wanted it for yourself you should have just said so.”

Gendry caught the skin that was tossed to him. “That’s not what I meant.” He threw it back.

Robb caught it grinning before it could smack him in the face. “You have yet to tell me your last name.” He said thoughtfully not being able to figure out why Gendry looked familiar to him.

“Waters.”

“You’re a bastard.” Robb laughed. “Theon was right I am attracted to bastards.”

“What?”

“I have a bastard half brother named Jon Snow.” He said once he calmed a bit. “We’re very close.”

“Where is he now?”

The laughter in his gaze vanished. “He’s in King’s Landing protecting my lady wife and sisters.” His expression became somber. Robb didn’t care what anyone thought or said. Jon was still alive. He refused to contemplate the thought of him being dead.

 _They have his family._ Gendry frowned not knowing what to make of the young man sitting on a chair a few feet from him. “What’s your name?”

“My name is Robb, from House Stark.”

“You’re a Lord.”

“You can say that.”

“And… I threw that at you. I should have not—”

“Don’t.” Robb cut him off abruptly. “If you start apologizing or calling me Lord I’m going to walk out of this room and forget you ever existed.”

“That’s a tad bit harsh… Robb.” Gendry knew he said the right thing when Robb sighed and slouched in his seat as if relieved. “If you wanted me to be your friend you should have just said.”

Robb chuckled at having his own words thrown back at him. It had been a while since anyone spoke to him in such a matter. Theon still did, but not as much anymore. It was as if he didn’t know how to approach him anymore. The war has changed the bond of brotherhood between Theon and him. “Well played Gendry.”

The chamber door slammed opened. “Waters, have you seen—” Theon stopped talking when he caught sight of Robb. “Why am I not surprised?” He slammed the door closed behind him and crossed his arms over his chest. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Sharing a drink with a friend.” Robb said as he raised the skin and shook it.

“You shouldn’t drink the night before we ride to King’s Landing.”  Theon snatched it from him. “But I can and I will drink in your name.”

“You are no fun.”

“I am not happy with you Robb.” He scowled at him after taking a drink. “I was running around like a stupid headless chicken looking for you. You weren’t in your bed chambers and when I went to the courtyard I saw Grey Wind by himself. I thought something might have happened to you.”

“Grey Wind…” Robb frowned as he remembered how on edge the wolf seemed. _I thought it was because I was unsettled._ He knew that he shared a connection with Grey Wind that couldn’t be explained with words. There were times Robb felt Grey Wind’s emotions just like Grey Wind felt his and would lash out for him when he could not. _Can this be the reason I can’t sleep? Is something bothering Grey Wind?_

“There’s something about Harrenhal that…” Theon trailed off as he physically shuddered. “I can’t wait until we leave tomorrow.”

“Don’t tell me you fear ghosts Theon.”

“Only a fool does not fear ghosts.” He snapped. “At least a man you can kill, but something that is dead may never die again.”

“He has a very valid point.” Gendry said breaking the silence that had formed after Theon’s words.

“Thank you.” Theon raised the skin toward him before taking another drink from it.

“With that said I bid the both of you a good night.” Robb stood from his seat.

“I’ll go get Grey Wind.” Theon walked to the door. “Stay here until I return with him.”

“Theon I—”

“Is there anything else the King in the North would like me to get for him?”

“I’m coming with you.”

“Waters—”

“Gendry.”

Theon raised an eyebrow at Robb and continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “Make sure he does not leave this room.”

“I’ll do my best.”

Theon took one look at him on the bed and snorted as he walked out the room.

“So,” Gendry looked at Robb. “You’re a King as well?”

Robb shrugged.

Gendry did not care for Kings, but the young man standing a few feet from him was one. _I would have been dead if it wasn’t for him._ For the King in the North, he would not hesitate to pick up a sword and fight for him. 

 

* * *

 

Theon whistled as he made his way through the dark passages and reached the courtyard. “Grey Wind!” He called out as he stepped out into the open. Theon heard the direwolf let out a growl in the distance. It was then he saw an arrow on the dirt as if someone had fired it. The hairs on the back of his neck stood, he heard something pierce the air. His head snapped up, the wineskin dropped from his hand and wet the dirt with red. Pain shot through his right arm, his eyes going to his right shoulder where the pain was the strongest to see an arrow piercing through his flesh. Blood oozed out staining his shirt and dripping down his arm. _“How?”_ His hand closed around the arrow and pulled it out.

He heard the sound of footsteps and looked up. _It can’t be._ The ten bannermen Robb had ordered to stand guard over the walls were gone and in their place were archers. Their bows and arrows aimed directly at him. _I can’t die like this not without warning…_ “Robb!” Theon yelled at the top of his lungs. He could only hope that somehow Robb heard and would know that they were under attack.

Arrows pierced through the air. He stood frozen watching them come at him.

Grey Wind let out a vicious growl and Theon swore he heard Robb yell his name.

 _Run!_ He turned on his heel and ran. Pain exploded on his back knocking the air out of his lungs as he fell forward.


	11. A Betrayal Most Foul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robb suffers another betrayal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally I had planned to finish another chapter of Feel Again before going back to this one, but I have run into some slight difficulty with it. OwlFlight, this one is for you! I planned for this chapter to be action packed, so I tried to make it as much as possible. Hope you like it. :)

“Theon!” Robb yelled watching helplessly as the arrows flew and Theon turned to run. It didn’t matter in the end for three arrows hit his back and sent him stumbling forward. _I have to get to him!_ He pivoted and ran out the room ignoring Gendry’s shout. “Sound the war horn!” Robb yelled as he ran down the hall and pounded once on each door he passed. “Sound the war horn! We are under attack!” Robb turned a corner only to slam into Harrion.

“Your Grace.” He grabbed Robb’s arm to steady him.

“Wake your father—”

“I was too late…” He didn’t finish the sentence and Robb didn’t need him to in order to know what befell Rickard Karstark.“You must arm yourself, Your Grace.” Harrion took out another sword he had strapped with him and handed it to Robb. “I can clear a path for you to your bed chambers and give you time to put your armor on.”

A horn being blown echoed through night.

“There is no time for that.” Robb ran passed Harrion and the men that followed him. “Theon searched Harrenhal and said there was no threat!”

Harrion ran after him with Karstark bannermen. _Another betrayal… but who can it be?_

“Where is the Greatjon?” Robb asked just as men, that he recognized fight alongside him, covered his path and raised their swords at him.

Harrion came to stand beside him. “Protect the King in the North!” He shouted as he charged forward and met the enemy. Robb was right on his heels. Metal against metal echoed through the hall. The cries of men soon joined and crimson decorated the walls and floor.

 

* * *

 

Theon stumbled forward a few steps, his knees buckled under him in shock. His heart pounded rapidly against his chest as pain and adrenaline coursed through his veins. From the corner of his eye he watched a smoky grey figure run toward him. It was a blur as it came at him. A horn was blown and Theon’s world was flipped as sharp teeth bit into his shirt and flung him into the air. His chest made contact with the creature’s back. He grabbed onto Grey Wind’s fur as he ran from the courtyard and into the castle.

“You did it.” Theon weakly patted the wolf on the head before struggling to get off his back. As if sensing what he was trying to do Grey Wind bent his legs and crouched down to the floor making it easier for Theon to get off. “You have my gratitude.”

The sound of footsteps approaching had Theon going tense. Grey Wind stood by his side protectively.

“Go to Robb.” He tried to push the direwolf away. If it was the enemy approaching Grey Wind could only fight so many before being slain. He would not be much help in the condition he was in. He had no weapon. _That’s a lie._ Theon gritted his teeth as he used his left hand to reach behind him and pull out one of the arrows. “Grey Wind go to Robb.” The wolf didn’t bother to glance at him as he stood his ground. “You stubborn wolf.” He hissed. “Can’t you see that Robb needs you? You’re supposed to fight by his side.”

Grey Wind turned his head to look at him with piercing yellow eyes. The color was completely wrong but as Theon continued to look into Grey Wind’s eyes it seemed like he was looking into Robb’s eyes. This was not the first time he wondered if a part of Robb lived inside Grey Wind. _If this is true then maybe it won’t be so bad too die here fighting beside him._ He swore to himself that he would only fight beside Robb and die beside him as well. He was beginning to realize that at the moment it was not possible and so he would take what he could. Theon fisted Grey Wind’s fur. “The moment they cut into me you are to run and protect Robb. You are to succeed where I failed.”

Grey Wind snarled not at all liking what he was implying. He roughing nudged Theon’s head as if telling him to stop talking nonsense. A small smile curved on Theon’s lips. “Come out and play.” He whispered into the darkness as the men approached.

 

* * *

 

“When I ran into Greatjon, he was with Patrek. They were planning to lure the men out to the courtyard and fight in open ground instead of the halls.”

Robb sped walk through the halls with Harrion by his side. He wanted to run, ached to run, but knew the risks that came with it. If he was not careful any man could bring him down with one carefully aimed swing of a sword. “That would be a good a plan if it wasn’t for the archers waiting in the courtyard to strike our men down.”

“How did you—”

“They shot at Theon.” Robb said nothing more. His hand curled around the hilt of his sword. The faint sound of men’s battle cry reached his ears. His left had reached for his dagger as he turned another corner. The moment he saw men surrounding Brynden he threw the dagger straight catching one in the throat. His right hand move, his sword arched through the air and met flesh. His strike was true as it severed the man’s head from his body. His left hand shot out connecting with the nose of another. Warm blood coated his hand. _Tear him limb from limb!_ Robb wanted to see his blood taint the walls, wanted to hear him scream, but there was not enough time for that. The sigil of a flayed man mocked him. Another house that had sworn fealty to him had betrayed him. _I will have his head for this!_ He stabbed the man directly through the chest and kicked his body off the blade before pivoting to cut down another man down. 

All he could hear was screams and shouts. The smell of blood hung heavy in the air. Robb continued to cut a path to his great uncle and only paused to turn and press his back against his. Harrion joined them by covering Robb’s left and Brynden’s right. The Karstark bannermen aided Tully bannermen was they fought outside the circle against the Bolton bannermen. In a matter of minutes it was over, the Bolton bannermen were slaughtered.    

“Are there any archers?” Robb asked as he looked amongst his men. Three from Tully and one from Karstark stepped forward. “I need you to go to the second floor and take out the archers in the courtyard. Take an extra bow and quiver with you to give to Theon when you see him. After taking out the archers you are to follow Theon’s orders.” He refused to think that Theon was lying in the courtyard bleeding. He would know if he was dead. Grey Wind would have come to him if that were the case. “The rest of you will help me aid the Greatjon and Patrek to drive out the Bolton bannermen to courtyard.”

“What about Roose Bolton?”

“He’s mine.” Robb said through gritted teeth.

 

* * *

 

“At the count of three.” Theon took a deep breath. “One—” He let out a foul curse as Patrek Mallister pulled out the remaining two arrows from his back simultaneously. “I thought we agreed at three.” He gasped.

“It was better this way.” Patrek grabbed the long piece of cloth, that consisted of smaller pieces of cloths that he and the Greatjon had ordered their bannerman to contribute to make a makeshift binding, and tied it over Theon’s back. “This will slow the bleeding, but not stop it. We have to get you to the Maester.”

“That will have to wait.” Theon struggled to get on his feet. “There are Bolton archers out there. I have to take them out before Bolton bannermen force us out there.” He leaned on Grey Wind when he was finally able to get on his feet. “Do you have any archers with you?”

“Archers step forward!” the Greatjon ordered in a booming voice. Five men stepped forward. “You,” He pointed at one of them, “give your bow and arrows to Greyjoy. Use your sword to protect them if any Bolton tries to attack. The rest of you are to follow him to the second floor and take out the archers in the courtyard.”

“Give the arrows you pulled out to one of the archers. I want to use them and pay them back in kind.”

“Will do.” Patrek came up behind Theon and practically shoved him on Grey Wind “Let me help you.” 

“What the—”

“Hold on tightly.” He warned and moved out the way. “Take him upstairs.”

Theon could only fist Grey Wind’s fur as the direwolf took off running. The archers ran as quickly as they could to try and keep up with them.

Patrek let out a low whistle as he watched them go. “To think that they will be safer up there.” He looked toward the courtyard. “Do you think that is what Roose has planned for us?”

“To kill us by sword or arrow?” the Greatjon glanced at him.

“It will be a massacre if they force us out there.”

“Then we have to make sure they don’t.” His greatsword sword was propped against his shoulder, the smirk that curved on his lips made his face look sinister.

“Lord Jon!” One of his bannermen yelled. “They come!”

“Prepare yourself.” the Greatjon smacked Patrek on the back this time his smile a tad bit friendlier. Even with the seriousness of the situation Patrek could see the excitement in his gaze. “Hold your ground!” He commanded, his greatsword no longer rested on his shoulder. It was poised at his side ready to be used at any moment.

 

* * *

 

Theon reached the second floor with Grey Wind to see three Tully archers and one Karstark archer standing in position by windows ready to shoot. One of the Tully left his position to walk over to Theon and helped him down Grey Wind. “The King in the North sent us with orders to take down the archers. After accomplishing our task we are to follow your orders.” He handed Theon a bow and quiver before returning to his own position.

Theon took his position beside a window and leaned against the wall. Grey Wind remained by his side. _I can do this._ He propped the quiver by the wall and repeated opened and closed his right hand to keep it from shaking. _I have to do this._ He watched as the remaining five archers joined them and took their positions. “Partner up and chose one target to shoot together. I don’t want everyone aiming at different ones only to end up missing them and giving our position away.”

He grabbed one of the three bloody arrows that had been given back to him by one of the archers. _I will pay you back in kind._ His right arm shook as he pulled the bow string and aimed. Pain coursed through his entire arm, his eyes burned. _Don’t look away._ He gritted his teeth. _Breathe._ Sweat dripped down his forehead. _You’re mine._ He let go. The arrow hissed through the air at an alarming speed and hit its target right in the throat. The man fell forward a sickening thud echoed through the courtyard. Theon quickly stepped away from the window and hid behind the wall. Grey Wind let out a whine as he crouched closer to the floor. Arrows pierced the air where Theon once stood. “Told you to go with Robb.”

 

* * *

 

Patrek grabbed his assailant and cursed when both of them were shoved into the courtyard. He disentangled himself from the other man and got into a crouching position, his sword poised at his side.

“Mallister!”

He looked up to in time to see the archers. _Oh no…_ Patrek moved but not fast enough as an arrow pierced his ankle. He grabbed the other man and cut the back of his knees. When the man fell to his knees Patrek used him as a human shield when arrows rained over them.

“Robb!”

Patrek looked over his shoulder to see the King in the North running toward him.

“You have to move!” Robb shoved the corpse off of him and hoisted him up. Patrek wrapped an arm around his shoulders as they both tried to make it out of the courtyard. For a moment they thought they heard Theon yelling.

 

* * *

 

“Take them all down!” Theon yelled as he watched the archers aim at Robb and Patrek. “Protect the King in the North!” He grabbed another arrow and placed it on the bowstring. The pain on his right shoulder and back was no longer at the forefront. There was no time to waste. His eyes narrowed on his target, he inhaled and let go of the arrow as he exhaled. He didn’t wait to see if his target fell as he grabbed another arrow. “Grey Wind, protect Robb.”

This time Grey Wind listened. He jumped from the window and landed directly in the courtyard beside Robb and Patrek growling. Theon released another arrow. _“Four more to go.”_

“Theon, we have a problem.”

He looked to the archer on his right. “What do you mean?”

“Look down.”

Theon did what he was told and cursed. Roose Bolton was leading prisoners armed with weapons out of the dungeons and crowding the courtyard. Robb, Grey Wind, and Patrek were surrounded. “I want three of you to continue shooting the remaining archers while the rest of you shoot down those that approach Robb and Patrek.” He grabbed another arrow and aimed it at Roose Bolton. _I will kill him before he can get to Robb._

* * *

_This can’t be the end._ Robb grasped the hilt of his sword tighter. Grey Wind snarled baring his teeth. Patrek tensed as he watched the men around them. Robb looked over the men to see the Greatjon, Brynden, and Harrion trying to cut a path toward him.

The crowd of men began to part to make way for Roose Bolton. “You are surrounded King in the North. Surrender and I’ll let the rest of your men live.” He signaled the prisoners he released to clear a path for the three of them. “Join your King.”

Brynden, the Greatjon, and Harrion walked forward with their heads held up high showing no fear even when Bolton’s men continued to battle their bannermen to keeping them back. “It will take more than these men to take us down Bolton.” the Greatjon taunted.

“It’s not you that I want.” Roose turned his gaze to Robb. “You can spare all their lives. It’s only your life that I am after.”

Robb glared at the man. He was the one keeping him from getting to King’s Landing. He was the one that was keeping him from reaching his family.

 ** _“If you lose, your father dies, your wife dies, your sisters die, we die.”_** His mother’s voice echoed in his mind. His father was dead and so was his mother. Myrcella could be next with Jon and his sisters when Stannis invades King’s Landing. Roose was not the only threatening the lives of his family but also those he swore to protect as King.

“You will have to get through us in order to get to our King.” Brynden came to stand by Robb’s side. The Greatjon, Harrion and him formed a circle semi circle with Grey Wind to protect him.

Roose ignored them as he continued to look at Robb. “What is your answer?”

“The north remembers Lord Bolton.” He glanced at Patrek as he pulled the arrow from his ankle and discarded it to the side. “Winter is coming, are you prepared?”

“Kill them —” An arrow pierced his shoulder.  He gritted his teeth as he looked at the direction it came from to see Theon Greyjoy aiming another arrow at him.

“Finish that command and the next one is going straight to your throat!”

Roose took out the out arrow. “Are you certain?”

Robb looked over his shoulder to see Theon frown. In a blink of an eye he was gone. “What did you do?”

“Kill them all.”

Grey Wind jumped on the first assailant that came after Robb. Patrek pulled away from Robb and swung at their next attacker. “Stay back to back!” Robb ordered as they formed a circle in the middle facing the enemy.

 

* * *

  

The corners of Theon’s vision blackened after one of Bolton’s bannerman slammed his head against the ground. They flipped him on his back. The pain of his wounds burned and raked through his body. Theon hissed as one of them kicked him on the ribs. The three men each took a turn beating him. His hand reached for one of the discarded arrows.  A hand wrapped around his throat and lifted him to his feet. Theon tried to struggle against his hold, but his body refused to cooperate. _I don’t want this to be the end._

“Just kill him.” One of them chuckled, but his amusement was short lived as a sword protruded from his chest. The one holding Theon by the throat got his own throat slit. Theon fell to the ground gasping for air as the third man was killed. He turned his head to the side to get a better look at the one who saved him. “Waters.”

Gendry crouched beside him and hoisted him to prop him against the wall. “You’re bleeding.”

“It’s nothing.” Theon lightly pushed his hand away. “Go help Robb. Help him kill that cunt Bolton.”

“What about you?” Gendry asked worried. The man looked far paler than was normal, his face was dripping with sweat, blood coated his tunic, and Gendry could see his body tremble.

“Don’t worry about me. Go to Robb. Protect him for the both of us.” Theon glared at him when he didn’t move. “Go damn you!” He shoved him.

“You better not die. I don’t want to be the one to have to explain to Robb that I was the last one to see you alive.”

Theon waved him off. “It will take more than this to kill an ironborn…” _who was raised by wolves._ He fought to keep his eyes open as he watched Gendry run, but it was futile. He woke up to his cheek stinging. “What the—” He met emerald eyes. _It can’t be._

“So you’re alive after all.”

“Did you slap me?” Theon glared at him.

“Only to see if you were alive.”

“I could kill you.” His eyes were becoming heavy again.

“I would like to see you try, but it seems you can’t even stand by yourself.” Jaime grinned. “The worse you can do is bleed on me.”

“Why are you still here?” Theon asked as he felt more than saw the Kingslayer hoisted him up and wrap an arm around his waist. “I thought you would be long gone by now.”

“I thought so to, but there are a few loose ends I have to tie up.”

He was tired and all he wanted to do was close his eyes. “Where are you taking me?”

“To the Maester.”  It was the last thing Theon heard before his world went completely dark.

 

* * *

 

Robb continued to hold his ground, his breathing scarce, and sweat dripped from his forehead down to his face. His hands were bruised and bloody as he continued to swing his sword and bodies around him dropped. The dirt under his feet was moist with blood. No matter how many times he ended a life another will take his place. It seemed to be a never ending cycle and Robb was beginning to think that maybe it will only end with his death. _I am so close to finally getting them back._

He could remember like it was only the day before that Arya had thrown food at Sansa’s face. The shock and disbelief on her face had sent them all laughing before he had to escort his youngest sister to her room. When Bran used ride on his back on his back before he learned his love for climbing. Rickon laugh as he ran around Winterfell with Grey Wind, Summer, and Shaggydog giving chase. Jon, who had been by his side ever since he could remember, they trained together every day since the moment their father gave them wooden swords.

Myrcella, his lady wife, his Queen, she is his other half. He has forgotten how to ever be whole again without her or maybe he had never been whole until he met her. He was never good at figuring out these kinds of things, but that did not diminish what she meant to him, what he felt for her. As hard as he was fighting to get his siblings back, he’s fighting just as hard to get her back. He didn’t belong, here in a battlefield, away from her. He didn’t want these to be his last moments. He belonged, in Winterfell, beside her. _I need to get her back._ He wanted to make new memories with her for the ones filled with blood and death were eating away at the ones he had of her.     

Pain sliced into his back. He could feel his own blood flowing as he stumbled forward. A hand grabbed his arm to steady him. He saw a flash of black hair in the corner of his eye and turned just in time to see Gendry stab his assailant in the throat. The man opened his mouth to say something but only blood came out. “You have my gratitude.”

Gendry glanced at him smiling slightly. “We’re friends, are we not?”

“As you can see I’m not a very good friend to have.” Robb turned around and stood with Gendry back to back. “Many people want me dead.”

“I’m in the same position.” Gendry grunted as he elbowed one of the men before cutting another one down.

Robb narrowly missed a blow to his head. “Help me kill my enemy and I will help you kill yours.” He got into the man’s guard and delivered an uppercut that had the man off his feet and snapped his neck back.

“Now that sounds like a lovely deal.”

He glanced around to see the morale of his men dying. _How much longer can we last?_ He risked a glance at the window where Theon had once stood to see it still empty. _He’s fine._ He didn’t want to think about what could have happened to him. _He’s not fine because if he was then he would be shooting arrows or fighting beside me._ Anger cursed through his veins. His hits became more violent. Grey Wind became even more vicious tearing limbs from men.

“Let us end this King in the North.”

Robb head whipped to the right to see Roose cut a path toward him. “So now you want to fight.” _If this is going to be the end I’ll take him down with me._

“Robb!” Gendry yelled as he watched Robb run at Roose Bolton.

Metal hit against metal. The world around them continued to turn to chaos. All that mattered to them was the thirst to end the other’s life.

“Tywin Lannister sends his regards.”

“How thoughtful of him.” Robb said through gritted teeth. “I will make sure to send him your head.”

“So young and so arrogant.” Roose dodged Robb’s swing and poised the tip of his sword against Robb’s throat.

The Young Wolf grinned the tip of his sword was pointed directly at Roose’s heart. “I deliver on my promises.” A wolf howled through the night. Then another joined in, followed by another until the song of howling rose over the song of swords, screams, and shouts. Even Grey Wind joined in. The ground shook. Men stopped fighting. Robb remembered what Rickard Karstark said about the great pack of hundreds of wolves led by a direwolf. He felt no fear as the howling grew louder and closer and with it the ground shook more. Robb never took his eyes off of Roose. “Winter is coming.” The words had only slipped through his lips and the ground stopped shaking. All was still and quiet.

Grey Wind made his way to Robb’s side. He snarled revealing sharp teeth as his yellow eyes narrowed on Roose Bolton.

Another growl came from across the courtyard and followed by another and then another until the multiple growls became one sound. Roose Bolton felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise. He looked away from Robb to see a grey and white direwolf enter the courtyard. Behind it multiple wolves followed. The direwolf came to stop by Robb’s left side and growled threateningly at Roose.

Robb used his hand to grab Roose’s sword as the older man moved to open his throat. The steel cut into his palm, blood coated it. Grey Wind pounced on him, his teeth digging into Roose’s shoulder. The other direwolf howled and his cry was drowned by the cries of those who aided him.

“Grey Wind, to me.”  Grey Wind unlocked his jaw at the Robb’s command and retreated by stepping backward. His gaze remained on Lord Bolton, the man’s blood dripped from his mouth. “I want him to be the last to be killed.”

 

* * *

  

Gendry regard the wolves cautiously as he came to stand on Robb’s left side. Brynden was ordering men to search for any survivors. The few Stark, Tully, Karstark, and Mallister bannermen that were not injured did as ordered and helped those that were. The Greatjon stood outside the circle the wolves had made surrounding Robb, Grey Wind, Gendry, and Roose. He went slightly tense when the grey and white direwolf walked passed him.

The wolves parted to let it in. Its head raised high, its white and grey fur was tainted with crimson.

Gendry felt the hairs on the back of his neck and arms rise. A puff of warm air ghosted over his right arm. He looked over his shoulder to see the grey and white direwolf. _Oh sh—_ it nudged his arm with its bloody snout. Gendry continued to look at it confused which only resulted in making the direwolf nudge him with enough force that had him stumbling more to the left. He watched with wide eyes as it took his spot next to Robb. Its yellow eyes stared into his and he could have sworn he saw them glisten with mirth. Its lips pulled back to reveal sharp teeth wet with blood. It should have been a frightening sight but to Gendry it appeared like it was grinning at him. If he wasn’t so caught up in the moment he might have chuckled or smiled. The moment came to end as Robb stepped forward and both yellow and blue eyes turned to look at him.

Roose’s hands were tied behind his back as he kneeled on the floor. His gaze meeting the King in the North’s as he came to stand before him.

“The north will remember this betrayal. House Bolton will burn for its treachery and the men that were slain tonight.” The man kneeling before him deserved no proper execution. “Roose Bolton, Lord of the Dreadfort.” His voice echoed through the courtyard. “Here in sight of Gods and men I sentence you to die.” Robb did not ask if he had any last words. _Honor be damned if I am to win this war._ He raised his sword and beheaded Roose Bolton. His head rolled across the ground and his body fell to the side wetting the dirt with blood. Robb looked toward Harrion. “Have his head cleaned and send it to Tywin Lannister. Write to him saying that it’s his head I am coming for next.”

“Your Grace.”

“Ser Brynden, I want you to send word to Winterfell informing Ser Rodrick to gather the remaining bannermen in Winterfell and arm them. They are to man the walls and be on guard for any possible attack.”

Brynden nodded before turning of his heel and entering the castle.

“Lord Umber form a group and search Harrenhal for the Kingslayer.” In the heat of battle Robb had forgotten about him. _Lord Bolton must have let him escape before the attack._ There was no doubt in his mind that Jaime Lannister was on his way to King’s Landing. If that was not the case then he would have joined Bolton in the battlefield. Robb didn’t want to waste time contemplating what ifs. He turned around only to finally take a good look at the grey and white direwolf. Its piercing yellow eyes met his. Its eyes were the same yellow as Grey Wind. _I know it… her._ He took a few steps forward. Robb knew he has seen her before in the trees and even before that. An image of Arya came into his mind and with it came a familiar ached. “I remember you.” She was Arya’s direwolf. Robb stuck his hand out slowly not wanting to alarm her and let her sniff it. Her pink tongue darted out licking the blood off his hand before rubbing her muzzle against it. “Nymeria.” For a moment he couldn’t help but wonder if Arya was watching out for him in her own way.

 

* * *

 

 **_Arya wanted to say his name when he finally turned to look at her._ ** _Robb! **She cried out his name but no sound came out. His eyes met hers as he stepped closer to her. She could see a hint of confusion that was quickly chased away by sadness and longing that called out to her own.**_

**_“I remember you.”_ **

**_Her heart ached as he hesitantly presented his hand to her. She sniffed his hand comforted by his familiar scent._ ** _I will never hurt you. **She licked his hand for it was the only way to show him that she meant no harm. That she cared.**_

**_“Nymeria.”_ **

**_Her heart swelled with affection at the sound of her name._ ** _Robb. **A whine was all she gave before stepping closer to him and nuzzling into his bloody tunic. She rubbed her head against his chest feeling his warmth and inhaling his scent that lay under all the blood. More than anything she wished she could hug him. She felt more than heard his chuckle, his hands ran through her fur comforting her. Tears burned her eyes for she had been frightened when she caught sight of Lord Bolton holding a sword to Robb’s throat. She had seen her father executed and could do nothing to stop it. She refused to lose Robb as well. Anger had burned through and had continued to rage through her as she fought beside Robb. It was only now as Robb petted her that she felt herself calming.**  He’s safe now._

**_“Where’s Theon?” Robb asked._ **

**_When no one responded Arya felt Robb go tense. Someone in the background cursed._ **

_“Arya…” **A faraway voice called for her.**_

**_It all happened so fast. Robb had pulled away and before she could react he ran inside the castle. She wanted to run after him, but her world began to shake violently._ ** _“You have to wake up!” **She let out a whine in protest. She did not want to. Grey Wind stopped by the entrance in the castle to look back at her worried.** Go after him. **As if hearing her, Grey Wind turned back around and ran after Robb.**_

_“Wake up!”_

_Leave me alone! **Her cry fell on death ears as the corners of her vision began to darken. The darkness ate away at the light. Through her panic she felt a warm hand rest on her, grounding her as the world around her crumbled. The young man she had practically shoved to the side so she could stand beside Robb entered her field of vision. It was his hand she felt touching her. It traveled over the fur matted with blood.**_

**_“Can it be that you got hurt?”_ **

_No I am not! **She wanted to yell at him.** Go after my brother and protect him stupid! **Instead a growl came out that made him pull his hand away. She instantly missed it.**_

_“Arya!”_

_Not now. Not when I barely reached Robb. **Arya nudged his shoulder before tilting her head to the entrance of the castle.** Go to him._

**_He followed her gaze before turning to look back at her. “I think I get what you want…” He patted her head giving her a small smile. “I’ll look after him for now. You should rest.”_ **

**_The last thing she saw before her eyes fell close was him running._ **

Arya’s eyes snapped open to see Sansa hovering over her and frantically shaking her. “I’m awake!” The fear in her older sister’s eyes worried her. “What’s wrong?” She looked away from Sansa to see Myrcella carrying a sleepy Rickard in one arm and held Tommen’s hand with her other. It was then she heard the heard bells tolling.

“It seems that Stannis arrived a night earlier than expected.” Jon glanced at her. “Grab needle and hide it under your robe.”

Arya hopped out of bed and reached for needle under it. Jon smiled at her approving as she walked up to him. He tied a leather slash around her waist. “Is it too tight?” Arya slipped needle between the leather and her nightgown. “It’s just right.”

Jon pressed a kiss against her forehead. Sansa came behind Arya and quickly turned her little sister around. Before Arya could form a protest Sansa had placed the robe over her shoulders and was shoving her arms through the sleeves. “I could have done it myself.”

“I know.” Sansa met Arya gaze as she tied the slash. “I just… I want to…” The words weren’t coming out. Sansa cupped her little sister’s face. “Try not to be reckless. I don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t.” Arya promised. “You just make sure to look after yourself.”

Jon looked over each of them to see that they were prepared. “Cersei expects each you to join her in Maegor’s Holdfast.”

Sansa grabbed his hand. “Be careful.” She did not want to separate from him especially not a time like this.

He gives her hand a comfort squeeze before letting go and wrapping both his arms around Arya.

“You better not do anything stupid.”

Jon closed his eyes for a moment as he held her. _We will live through this night._ He pulled away and turned to Myrcella as she walked up to him with Rickard and Tommen.

Rickard yawned as he rubbed his eyes. “Uncle Jon…” Even half asleep he still reached for him.

Jon ran a hand through his nephew’s curly auburn hair. “Listen to your mother.”

The little one frowned slightly when his uncle didn’t hold him like he wanted him to.

“Ghost will watch over you and he will tell me if you misbehave.”

Rickard looked at his uncle with wide eyes before turning his gaze to Ghost who looked at him with red eyes. His only response was to nod and bury his head in the crook of Myrcella’s neck.

Jon crouched down to be in the same eye level as Tommen, who was just as old as Bran. “There is nothing wrong with being frightened.” He told the younger boy. “My father once told me that the only time a man can be brave is when he is afraid.” Jon placed his hand over Tommen’s head and ruffled his golden hair drawing out a small smile from the little boy. He looked up to meet Myrcella’s gaze.

“Will you be near?”

“I will be standing guard somewhere near where they can’t see me.”

Myrcella bent her knees slightly to lean forward and pressed her lips against her sworn shield’s temple. “Be safe.” She whispered just before straightening. “We must hurry.”

     


End file.
